


odds are for beatin'

by doofusface



Series: drabbles misc [4]
Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Drabble, F/M, Friendship, Gen, Happy Ending, Love, Near Death Experiences, Sad with a Happy Ending, Whump, the shot that got mj that paul rudd scar
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-11
Updated: 2018-09-11
Packaged: 2019-07-10 22:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,383
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15959252
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/doofusface/pseuds/doofusface
Summary: “Nevermind,” MJ winces, breath shuddering as Peter gently,gentlylifts her off the ground. “I feel the burning now and itsucks.”--Prequel toup an' at 'em, but can be read separately.





	odds are for beatin'

**Author's Note:**

> my favorite thing is spelling droney as dron-e and im still not sure if it's a fanon thing
> 
> prequel to up an at em but can be read alone!
> 
> EDIT WOW DONT POST WHEN SLEEP DEPRIVED fixed that thing

“Oh,” MJ blinks, eyes trained on the grass nearing her face.

Except, technically, _she_ was the one nearing the grass.

So.

Peter, ever reflexive, catches her and lays her down gently onto the grass with one hand, the other _flicking_ a string of webs off at the gunman, securing him to a tree.

In like, a top branch.

Because Peter’s kinda mad now.

(If he let more than the necessary amount of webbing loose, no one’s gonna ask him about it later.)

“ _Crap_ ,” MJ adds in a shaky voice, slumped in his arms. “I think I got shot.”

“You _think_?!” Peter half-yells, pitch rising.

(The gunman wiggles.

Peter shoots some more webbing.)

MJ frowns down at her hand hovering over her reddening abdomen. “Can’t really feel anything burning. Disappointed that entertainment media got _that_ wrong, too.”

“ _Is she making jokes? Like right now?! FORREAL?!_ ” Ned screams into the comms.

Peter’s brows knit, his mask’s eyes squinting to flattened oblong shapes. “Karen? Do we—” _Curse_ , as MJ winces when he tries to adjust her position. “—do we have stuff for this? In the upgrades?”

_Whirring._ “ _Activating Dron-E, Medical Response Mode._ ”

Dron-E detaches itself, flitting off to MJ’s abdomen and makes little baby robot sounds as it does…something.

“Peter, I’m _not_ going to be a statistic,” MJ whispers then, calling back his attention.

A little quick.

A little desperate.

Her hands try to get a grip on his suit and fail miserably, mostly due to them shaking. “I’m not. I’m _not_ ,” she repeats, and her boyfriend, the kindly superhero that he is, gently helps her twine her fingers behind his neck.

Helps her sit up a little better.

Says a few choice words to relieve the tension in his chest and gut and _everything,_ and a string of nice, sweet things like: _I’m right here_ and _You won’t be, I promise_ and _I love you, I love you, stay with me_.

“ _C’mon lil’ Dron-E_ …” Ned says quietly, probably watching the robot’s feed. Peter hears him lurch, and _yep_ , definitely watching the feed. “ _Why is that so disgusting and why can’t I look away?_ ” he mutters, possibly with his hands covering his face if the muffled sound was anything to go by.

_Fizzing_ , and MJ seething as Dron-E returns to Peter’s suit. White covers her stomach and side and whatever’s left of her favorite jean jacket.

“Nevermind,” MJ winces, breath shuddering as Peter gently, _gently_ lifts her off the ground. “I feel the burning now and it _sucks_.”

“I gotta take you to the hospital,” Peter coos, trying desperately not to look _too_ frazzled by her wounds as they near the rest of the park goers.

“My parents are gonna think you’re a wimp,” MJ says, grip loosening.

He walks faster.

Left foot, right foot, step over branch, nod politely at the onlookers.

“Why’ssat?” Peter asks when they make their way through the crowd.

“Probably think my boyfriend ditched once he saw a dude with a gun. Let her get shot instead.”

Third person, because people are present.

“ _Oh, she’s right,_ ” Ned says. “ _I still kinda wanna throw up, but she has a point._ ”

Peter hears the sirens rounding the corner. “Well, ma’am, how do you know your boyfriend wasn’t the one who called me?”

“Oh, yeah—he works with you or something, right?” MJ asks, voice softening.

But, uh.

Not in a kind way.

Just…

“M—ma’am? Ma’am, you need to stay awake, okay?” Peter says quickly, losing his mind. He feels her weight drop down to dea—

_Nope_.

Not that kind.

“I hate being called ‘ma’am’, but you’re a good exception,” MJ mutters, eyelids shutting.

Karen beeps, and Peter watches her vitals do _Not Good, Not Good, Not Good_ things.

“I’m not,” MJ whispers again, fingers untangling from each other, hands falling.

_A statistic._

_I’m not going to be a statistic_ , _Peter._

_Peter._

_Peter._

“ _Peter?_ ” Ned’s voice cuts in, and Peter finds himself mid-walk and face to face with an NYU ambulance _et_ staff, freshly arrived. “ _Pete, you gotta let them take her_.”

“I think there’s internal bleeding,” Peter recites, relaying Karen’s information as he watches them bring out the stretcher. He’s stiff as one of the medics brushes past him and another tries to make him move back. “The wound should be closed, but she’s still…”

“Hey, Mr. Spider-Man,” the youngest-looking medic says gently, hands hovering by MJ’s sides. “We need to take her now, sir.”

“Right,” Peter gulps, blinking. He ignores the man, moving to lay MJ down himself. “Right, just, uh—she’s—”

“She’ll be okay, sir, you did well,” the man says, clapping Peter’s shoulder reassuringly. He moves with his team, securing MJ and doing a dozen other things Peter blurs out, because he _can’t focus_.

“ _I’m ducking out, I’ll meet you there,_ ” Ned says hurriedly, and _click._

“ _Peter, would you like me to track the ambulance?_ ” Karen asks immediately after.

_Sirens_ , as the vehicle speeds away, past another corner.

When did it get so far?

_Murmuring_ , as the crowd watches Spider-Man watch the now-unseen ambulance as it worms its way to the hospital.

“Is he okay?” someone asks, a little louder than the rest.

“Yes,” Peter says, not okay. He throws up a web on autopilot, swinging to where Karen’s map has indicated the ambulance had passed.

* * *

“She’s doing extremely well, all things considered,” the doctor says after explaining a ton of stuff Peter didn’t really register. “She’s awake, and I believe she’s been asking for a Peter and Ned?” she adds, smiling at the teens. 

Ned relays the message to MJ’s mother, a hand cupped over the phone as he does so.

Peter watches him, waiting.

“Okay, thank you Mrs. Jones—I will, yeah. He’s…he’s gonna be okay,” Ned says, glancing at Peter. “Okay. Yeah. We’ll watch her til you get here. Buh-bye.” _Click_. “She says we’re good. They’re stuck in traffic.”

Peter nods, silent.

The doctor gestures towards the door. “Follow me.”

* * *

“I’m mad at you,” MJ grumbles, half awake.

The doctor chortles lightly, closing the door as she leaves.

“Oh, she’s fine,” Ned exhales heavily, smoothing over his hoodie. “Lit.”

Peter pouts, silent still as he takes the chair by her bedside, hugging her forearm and leaning his head on it.

“I woke up and you…weren’t there,” MJ explains after a few minutes of silence. Her brows crease, and she sinks back farther into her pillow. “And it was all bright lights. Misleading as hell.” _Blink._ “Oh. Uh. Not _hell_.”

Ned sniffles, standing stock still in the middle of her room.

“Dude, you can come closer,” MJ says tiredly. “Peter went on full cuddle. It’s fine.”

“I’m going to literally crush you in a hug and open all your stitches,” Ned says quickly, sniffling again. “I’m not gonna risk it.”

“Aw, man—I want to laugh _so bad_ but it’s gonna hurt,” MJ winces, blowing out through her nose. “ _Ugghhhh_.”

Peter, pout still stamped on his face, stands a little and leans over her, kissing her lips. “I’m sorry for doing this to you, like, all the time,” he says hoarsely after he pulls away, a few tears already falling. “The like—the almost dying, not the _you_ dying, ‘cause you’ll get mad at me for thinking that that’s my fault and not the guy with the gun’s fault and also I love you and—”

“I’m not mad at you anymore,” MJ smiles sleepily, hand finding his. She intertwines their fingers and _squeezes_. “You might want to refill your web fluid. I saw how much you used.”

“I’ll do it,” Ned sniffles, pitch raised as he keeps from full-out bawling. “Like, not right now, but later, when I need a distraction, ‘cause standing like this is super sucky and I really wanna hug you, and I love you too but different, andI’mreallygladyou’renotde- _e-e-eaddd_ ,” he continues, devolving into tears by the end of it.

“Just come here, Ned,” MJ frowns, slowly turning her head to call him over. “Pete can make sure you don’t kill me.”

“O _kaaaay_ ,” Ned wails, taking her free arm and nuzzling there.

“There we go,” MJ sighs, closing her eyes.

“I’ll be here when you wake up,” Peter whispers with a forehead kiss before returning to his chair.

“Good,” MJ mumbles.

“Goodnight,” Ned finishes, one last _sniffle_ filling the room.

**Author's Note:**

> God bless yallll 
> 
> im not a doctor or an emt so uhhh protocol? who is she?
> 
> meet me in the comment pit or at doofwrites!
> 
> and for ppl waiting for mob au...  
>  _Ned cracks his fingers. “His fault—shouldn’t have walked into my rock of questionable origin.”_


End file.
